


A Tale of Two Sherlocks

by bayoublackjack



Series: Love in London [2]
Category: Elementary (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Holmes Brothers, Multiple Crossovers, POV Molly Hooper, Post-Reichenbach, Sibling Rivalry, St. Bart's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bayoublackjack/pseuds/bayoublackjack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper had resigned herself to loving Sherlock Holmes from afar, but when he needed to fake his death, Molly was one of the few people that he trusted with his secret, giving her hope that there could be more to their relationship than she originally thought.  To make matters more complicated, Sherlock’s identically named and radically different older brother seems dead set on proving himself to be the better detective, the better Sherlock and the better man for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tale of Two Sherlocks

Sherlock and Sherlock were bored, which meant one thing.  A trip to St. Bart’s to see Molly Hooper and to conduct an experiment.  One Sherlock was convincing enough, but the two of them together?  There was no way Molly could refuse.  So she laid out the corpse for one of the cases she was working on and allowed them to conduct their usual game to see which would arrive at the cause of death first.

‘Two sides of the same coin,’ Molly thought to herself as she watched the two men work.

Sherlock, her Sherlock that is, was more reserved than his brother in both dress and demeanour.  He wore his usual well-tailored black suit, while the elder Sherlock wore jeans and a neon yellow t-shirt under a black waistcoat.  The one she knew was calm and calculated.  His movements were measured, sparing energy only for what he deemed essential.  Meanwhile, the other was prone to extraneous motion.  If Molly were to guess, it was because his brain moved from topic to topic at a speed that his limbs struggled to keep up with.

But for all their differences, at their core, the two Sherlock Holmes were definitely similar.  They kept their heads down and focused on their task, paying no heed to Molly or each other, except to alert one another of any progress made which was usually followed by a snide comment about the other being slow on the uptake.

The experiment was a game of course.  It was what they did.  How they bonded.  Though they’d never call it that, of course.  They both had an adversarial relationship with the eldest Holmes brother, Mycroft, but with each other it was more of a friendly rivalry.  A constant competition to prove which of them was the better detective and, essentially, the better Sherlock.

“Molly?” the younger Sherlock spoke, breaking Molly from her thoughts.

“Yes?”  Molly hopped up and moved to his side.

“I’m ready to report my findings.”

The elder Sherlock looked up from his task.  “Took you long enough, Billy.”

The other man huffed in frustration.  “Must you insist on calling me that?”

“It is your name.”

“My name is Sherlock.”

“Your _name_ is William.”

“It’s what everyone calls me,” the younger Sherlock countered.

“If you’re Sherlock, then what does that make me?”

“Annoying.”

“Maybe,” Molly cut in.  “Maybe you should have a nickname,” she suggested to the elder Sherlock.  “Just to cut down on the confusion.”

He regarded Molly with interest.  “What would you suggest?”

“Well…”  Molly met his eyes then looked away.

It was strange.

Molly wasn’t the most unflappable person around.  On several occasions, her best mate Martha had to talk her down when she worked herself into a tizzy.  More often than not, because of Sherlock.  It was a silly crush.  She knew nothing would ever come of it, but it didn’t hurt to dream, right?

Still, they were friends.  Sort of.  Did Sherlock even have friends?  Well there was John, but Molly could never hope to compare to John in Sherlock’s eyes.  He did trust her though.  When needed to fake his death, it was Molly that he turned to for help.

“You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you,” Sherlock said that night in the laboratory before they faked his death.

Molly would be lying if she said that moment hadn’t given her hope that there could be something more than a mutual respect between the two of them.  But it wasn’t as if she could act on those feelings then and there.  And she couldn’t exactly ask her friends for advice.  As far as the world knew, Sherlock Holmes was dead.  ‘You can’t carry on with a dead man,’ she told herself.  So she buried those thoughts inside to deal with another day, when Sherlock returned.

The other Sherlock was an unexpected kink in the plan.  Mycroft had given her explicit instructions to keep her distance, but that was easier said than done when his own Dr Watson, Joan, had a mutual friend in common with Molly.

When their paths, finally did cross Molly was struck by how different the two men were.  The elder Sherlock was just as capable of being arrogant and standoffish as his brother.  He was, however, slightly more approachable.  Molly wasn’t sure if it was genuinely a part of his personality or if it was because Joan was there at every turn to call him out on his rude behaviour.  Nevertheless, while Molly felt a deeper connection with her Sherlock, she had development a considerably more comfortable relationship with the other.

“Sometimes the papers refer to Sherlock as ‘Shezza,’” Molly offered as a possibility.  The elder man took a moment to contemplate the suggestion while the other rolled his eyes disdainfully.

“Is that your only option?” the older Sherlock asked after some time.

“Well, I have thought of another, but it’s a bit silly,” Molly confessed.

Her Sherlock returned his focus to the corpse.  “Sillier than Shezza?  I doubt that very seriously.”

“Go on.”

“Lock,” Molly answered.

“Lock?” he repeated.

“It’s the second half of your name, brother, do keep up.”

“There is that, yes,” Molly agreed.  “But Joan told me that you collect locks to practise your lock picking,” she added.  “So I thought it was fitting.

Sherlock paused thoughtfully before answering.  “Acceptable.”

“Now that’s sorted, can we continue?”

“In a hurry to be embarrassed are you, Shezza?”

“It’s not me that’s in a hurry,” Sherlock replied, glancing at Molly.

“Me?” Molly looked flustered.

“You keep checking your watch as if you’re late for something,” he observed.

“Your standing appointment with Dr Jones no doubt?” the other asked.

Molly nodded.  “I’m supposed to meet Martha for lunch,” she answered.  “But…”  She glanced at her watch again.  “I can ring her to tell her to start without me.”

“Please do.  I need you here,” her Sherlock said before turning his attention back to his brother.  “Someone has to stand witness to my brother’s defeat.”

Molly tried not to smile too much about him saying that he needed her.  She knew he didn’t mean it in the way she would have liked, but the choice of words still sounded nice to hear.  “Let me just go ring her,” she said as she moved to step out of the room.  “Back in a mo.”  Molly moved down the hall for a bit of privacy before ringing Martha to inform her of the change of plans.  After a few minutes, she returned to the lab.  “Where were we?”

“You were just about to determine which of us is the better Sherlock,” Lock answered.

“I’d think that was obvious,” Shezza retorted.

“Yes, well, you at least deserve the chance to prove me wrong.”

Molly smiled at their banter.  ‘Two side of the same coin,’ she thought again.  Molly shoved her hands into her pockets and stepped further into the lab to observe their findings for herself.  “Let’s hear your results.”


End file.
